


End of the Day

by mochiboom



Series: Changing Gears [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Formula One AU, M/M, Makoto's a racing driver ok, PWP, Rin's a professional swimmer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2277282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiboom/pseuds/mochiboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have I told you recently how much I appreciate you and everything you do for your no-good boyfriend?” Makoto says, breaking into a smile as Rin blushes violently.</p><p>“Shut up and eat, you ass.” </p><p>Rin and Makoto engage in domestic bliss. Racer Makoto! AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	End of the Day

“Tell me you weren’t out practising at the track until now,” Rin’s voice carries from the kitchen through to the hallway where Makoto’s gingerly shutting the front door. His tone is light and teasing on the surface, but there’s a threatening undercurrent to it. Makoto gulps.

“No…?” He replies, hanging up his coat and trying to check to see if he still smells of engine oil. Rin appears in the doorway and wrinkles his nose at him.

“Liar,” he replies, pointing the ladle at Makoto with a frown on his face. “I can smell oil on you from here.” Makoto lifts his sleeve to his nose and takes a cautious sniff. Rin rolls his eyes and stalks forward, sliding his arms around Makoto’s neck. The ladle hangs awkwardly from his hand.

Sighing heavily, Makoto drops his head onto Rin’s shoulder and wraps his tired arms around Rin’s waist. He smells of curry roux and grapefruit shower gel, Makoto presses closer, hiding his face in the soft curve of Rin’s neck. He feels, rather than hears, Rin’s chuckle.

“Come on, stop trying to meld with me and come and have some dinner.” He nudges Makoto’s head up and kisses him gently, his lips soft and a smile tugging at their corners. Makoto whines pathetically as he pulls away, but allows Rin to lead him into the kitchen by the hand and be deposited at the kitchen table.

The air in the kitchen is thick with the smell of food and Makoto suddenly realises how _ravenous_ he is. Down at the track, with the car engine roaring in his ears and the all-consuming concentration that driving at the Suzuka Circuit required. All he’d had since the breakfast he’d wolfed down on the way to the track that morning was several bottles of Pocari and an energy tablet.

“What would I do without you, Rin,” he sighs as a towering pot of steaming curry is set down on the table, followed by a towering bowl of rice for Makoto and a slightly smaller one for Rin.

“Well, waste away, for one,” Rin replies, ladling spoonfuls of curry into a bowl and handing it to Makoto, his tone stern but a fond look in his eyes. “Who would you come home to after staying out _after hours_ to get in just a little more practice, even though he was told _explicitly_ by your manager to ‘go home and get some rest’?” He raises his eyebrows and Makoto grins sheepishly.

“Have I told you recently how much I appreciate you and everything you do for your no-good boyfriend?” He says, breaking into a smile as Rin blushes violently.

“Shut up and eat, you ass,” Rin shoots back, poking Makoto’s hand with his chopsticks. Makoto laughs, and picks up his spoon.

“Yessir.”

 

* * *

“I wasn’t kidding about you smelling of oil,” Rin says in the middle of washing up, his hands buried in soapy water. Makoto pauses in drying the casserole and for the fifth time that evening gingerly sniffs his sleeve. Rin bursts out laughing and Makoto frowns, abandoning the casserole and wrapping Rin up in an all-encompassing hug. Rin laughs louder and his hands come up out of the water to shove at Makoto’s arms.

“ _Stop_ , damn you! You really stink!” Makoto tightens his arms in response as Rin’s soapy hands slide uselessly against Makoto’s bare forearms. His chest’s still shaking with laughter and Makoto feels his own lips break into a smile in response. He closes his eyes and absently presses his lips just behind Rin’s ear. Rin stops laughing with an audible intake of breath, no longer pulling at Makoto’s hands but clutching them, fingers digging into the meat of Makoto’s corded arms. Emboldened, Makoto presses increasingly more fervent kisses down the side of Rin’s neck, feeling his pulse jump under the skin like a tiny bird.

Rin audibly swallows. “Fuck fuck, Makoto,” his voice coming out ragged. “Sto- _stop!_ Come here- let me kiss you _properly,_ dammit.” He turns violently in the circle of Makoto’s arms and surges up to kiss him, all surging heat and teeth, his hands framing Makoto’s face. Makoto realises belatedly that the tap’s still running but then Rin’s sliding his tongue into Makoto’s mouth and the house could catch fire or Nagisa could run naked through the room and Makoto wouldn’t care. He slides a hand down to curve over Rin’s ass and judging by the shaky moan that leaves Rin’s mouth he couldn’t care less about the state of the dishes either.

That is until the sink overflows. Rin jerks back from where Makoto’s pressed him into the cabinets with a curse, nearly biting Makoto’s lip off. For a second he’s torn between the rapidly soaking floor and Makoto, who has a hand cupped protectively over his mouth while he tries to judge if his mouth’s still intact. With a yank, Rin turns the tap off and immediately descends on Makoto, prising his hand away and running a thumb over his lip anxiously.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Mako,” he sounds genuinely upset and, okay yes, it _does_ hurt but not as much as seeing Rin’s distress so open and plaintive on his face. So he ignores the stinging pain and smiles, drawing Rin’s hand away from his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“I’m fine,” he replies genially, relived as the tension seems to physically flow out of Rin’s shoulders. “Clearly you’re very distracting.” He winks and Rin’s mouth twists in a smile.

“Flatterer,” Rin chuckles, gingerly inspecting the damage done to his jeans. “Go fetch a towel from the laundry and I’ll get this cleaned up.” He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Makoto’s abused lips, smiling as he pulls away to dig in the tea towel drawer. Makoto, despite the throbbing in his lips, practically floats out of the room to find a towel. “Get that dopey smile off your face!” Rin yells at him as he leaves and Makoto laughs, heart surging in his chest and a huge grin on his face.

Thankfully, the damage to the kitchen floor is minimal; Makoto leaves a dry towel over the dampest part in order to try and get the worst of it out overnight. He flops in front of the TV as Rin disappears to have a shower. He doesn’t remember falling asleep but suddenly Rin’s gently shaking him awake, his hair still damp from the bath and a towel around his neck.

“You’re really fucking tired, huh.” Rin murmurs, brushing Makoto’s hair out of his eyes with gentle strokes of his hand. “But you still need to shower; I’m not letting you into bed if you’re just gonna stink the sheets up.” Makoto groans pathetically as Rin coaxes him to his feet.

“What if I drown in the bath?” Makoto whines miserably, Rin scoffs.

“Don’t be such a baby, Makoto,” his grip on Makoto’s hand firm. “I’ll wash your hair if it’ll stop you whinging.”

“I’d like that, Rin,” Makoto replies honestly, curling his hand tightly around Rin’s. He thinks he sees the back of Rin’s neck flush before he’s dragged into the bathroom.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it, don’t want Haru to accuse me of spoiling you again.” He turns and flashes a grin at Makoto. “Gotta keep up my bad boy reputation, after all.”

“Nobody’s thought of you as mean since high school,” Makoto points out. “I think the last person you scared was Ai-kun.”

“Well the kids at Haru’s swimming club still think I’m scary.” Rin tugs Makoto’s t-shirt up over his head and tosses it by the washing machine. “Now, I trust you can finish getting undressed while I dig out those weird bath salts from Haru you _insist_ on using.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and heads into the steamy air of the bathroom. As Makoto tries to remember how do undo his belt, the quiet sounds of Rin rifling through the bathroom cabinet get progressively angrier and more persistent.

“Everything alright in there, Rin?” He calls out, letting his jeans pool at his feet.

“When did we acquire so many fucking bottles of conditioner?” Rin replies tersely, the sound of bottles hitting the floor in a series of consecutive thuds. Makoto snickers and peels his underwear off.

“Since Nagisa decided you don’t take good enough care of your hair and made Rei bring them back from his study trip to Korea.” He wandered into the bathroom to see Rin surrounded by conditioner bottles and a small tin clutched in his fist.

“Don’t. Laugh.” Rin warns him, chucking the bottles back into the cupboard one by one and slamming the door shut. He gets to his feet and empties the contents of the tin into the steaming bath water. “Now get in, I’m gonna go and find that Royal Jelly wash set I know you’re hiding in the back of the wardrobe.”

Every inch of Makoto’s body protests as he sits down on the shower stool but he methodically scrubs every inch of himself clean, wincing a bit as the sponge catches on a nasty bruise on his left knee. The bath water has turned an inviting shade of blue from the kelp salts and he tries not to moan out loud as he sinks into it, the warmth seeping into his very bones and soothing the aching pull of his tired muscles. The bathroom door opens quietly behind him and he tips his head back as Rin steps inside, their plastic bath cup in one hand and Makoto’s prized shower set in the other.

He smiles tiredly as Rin spreads a hand towel on the floor and kneels down, rolling up the sleeves of his too-big hoodie. “Don’t fall asleep in the bath, you’ll catch a cold.” He squirts shampoo into the palm of his hand and works it into a rich lather. Makoto sighs as he sinks those hands through his hair and closes his eyes.

Rin takes his time, making sure he thoroughly washes the grit and sweat out of Makoto’s hair. If humans could purr, Makoto’s sure he’d be a purring puddle on the floor by the time he’s finished. He dozes on the edge of sleep as Rin carefully rinses to lather out, his hands gentle through Makoto’s hair. “You’re too good to me,” he murmurs sleepily and Rin’s hands still in his hair.

 _You’re wrong_ , he wants to say. _You’re wrong you do so much for me every day and you don’t even know it_. But Rin’s never been good with voicing his feelings, so instead he smoothes the wet hair back from Makoto’s forehead and presses a kiss between his eyebrows.

“C’mon,” he says, getting to his feet and grabbing the towel off the hook. “It’s late and both of us have early starts tomorrow.” He holds out the towel, deep blue with a red border, as Makoto reluctantly steps out of the bath.

“Oh don’t remind me,” he huffs, scrubbing his hair dry with the towel. “Sponsor meetings are always so boring; I honestly don’t know how you cope with them.” Rin rolls his eyes and flicks the extractor fan on to clear the steam.

“At least Docomo find you nice sponsors, I have to deal with Lawson trying to get their shitty little magazine providers on my uniform. I’m not having some fucking porno advertising themselves on my legskins.” He stalks out of the bathroom and Makoto follows close behind, towel tied around his waist.

Rin’s already in his pyjamas, so he launches himself onto their futon and wraps the duvet around himself until he’s cocooned in its warmth. Makoto shakes his head and digs in the wardrobe for a clean pair of boxers. He can feel Rin’s gaze on him as he drops the towel to pull them on, followed by an old t-shirt gifted to him by his very first sponsor. He slides under the duvet and Rin immediately reaches for him, tugging Makoto over him and sliding a hand up the back of his t-shirt.

Makoto leans down, strokes the hair tenderly out of Rin’s face, hand slipping round to curve around the back of Rin’s head and kisses him. Rin’s eyes flutter shut and he sinks back into the pillows. Makoto’s practically radiating heat and as he pulls away to kiss down the column of Rin’s neck, Rin thinks he may just melt into the futon. His breath hitches as Makoto thumbs over a nipple through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thinks he can hear it in the stillness of their bedroom. His mouth falls open of its own accord as Makoto gently brushes his fingertips over the bulge in Rin’s sweats and he can _feel_ Makoto smirking against his chest.

He opens his mouth to tell him off but abruptly loses all cognitive function as Makoto closes his mouth around one of his nipples. He scrabbles weakly at Makoto’s back as his back arches off the futon, inadvertently helping Makoto slide his sweats down past his knees. He actually whimpers out loud when Makoto’s hand closes around his dick, that gentle touch at once holding him together but shattering him into a thousand pieces. Almost agonised, he wrenches his eyes open to find Makoto _staring_ at him, those devastating green eyes pinning him to the futon, almost completely black with pupil. He threads his fingers through Makoto’s hair and hitches a leg up over his hip. Makoto swallows heavily and lets Rin shove his boxers down, both of them shuddering at the heady press of skin-on-skin.

He so, so badly wants Makoto to be inside him but he can see exhaustion in every line of Makoto’s face, like it’s a physical weight pressing down on his back. So instead he gets a hand down between them, watching Makoto’s face as he wraps a hand around them both. Neither of them last long; it’s been almost a week since they’ve had the energy to do anything except sleep when they get home. Makoto’s arms shake on either side of Rin’s head and he presses his face into the crook of Rin’s neck, his body going tense as he comes messily between them. Rin’s own orgasm hits him like a freight train; it’s devastating in its intensity and he can’t hold back the shaky cry that forces its way through his lips as he comes.

Makoto, hands still shaking from his own pleasure crushes him to his chest as if he’s trying to keep Rin from falling to pieces. Rin clutches back weakly, hips still moving in tiny little jerks as he rides out the shock waves of his orgasm. “I love you.” Makoto whispers fiercely in his ear, his voice sounding punched-out and fragile. Even after all this time, hearing those words still makes Rin’s heart soar and he buries his face in Makoto’s chest, tangling their legs.

“I love you, too,” he replies quietly, because it’s still a little embarrassing for him to admit it out loud; he doesn’t say it as much as Makoto does but he likes to think Makoto knows from his actions rather than his words. “Kick ass at your sponsor meeting tomorrow; you’re the best driver they’ve got.” He doesn’t say how scared he is every time Makoto goes out on the track, how any phone call he gets while Makoto’s training scares him to death because _what if he’s crashed_ , how he couldn’t bear to watch the Korea Gran Prix on TV from his swimming tournament in Thailand because _what if something happened?_ Makoto genuinely seems to come alive when he gets behind the wheel of his beloved car and Rin is not about to take that away from him.

So he curls a little tighter into him and reminds himself that Makoto is still here, still breathing, still alive and thanks his lucky stars every night he gets to do so.

**Author's Note:**

> i went go-karting and my brain somehow came up with this. no actual racing in this one, just an excuse to write pwp with a little tiny bit of plot and angst chucked in at the end for good measure  
> if you want to come and cry with me about makorin find me on tumblr at nocapesnotights


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